he comes home from new york, some oceans and continents away, yet still manages to find and bring home to me an artifact that's so hopelessly me. as a tribute, i had hung this star (original from broadway, he says. which i don't really doubt because he forgot to take the price tag off. hahaha) on my bedroom door a la diva's dressing room.
mommy: where'd you get the thing hanging outside your door?
me: levi gave it to me as pasalubong from new york. nice noh!?
mommy: eh why does it say "queen?"
me: mommy! it's a term! have you heard anyone say "drama king!?"
sometimes i pity my mom for being so naive. but i envy her because of that too. on the other hand, i really love myself for being as witty as hell and for always coming up with the silliest of excuses enough to make me doubt my own wit.
***
when you're twenty-two and you have not experienced being in a relationship yet, you wouldn't help but question yourself. (of course i'm talking about a friend here--i am clearly sixteen years old, as i have been for six years now.) and when you have not been in a relationship yet by the time you'd graduated college, there is nothing left for you to do but write about it in your blog, as if asking those who might get to read it to set you up, godamnit!
i have always said that i am not interested in the l word. which is true, actually. but here, i succumb to the danger of writing as if i do for lack of a better topic to write about. i have observed that the vicious cycle has always been like that. pining for someone has never been so much about truly needing something. it never felt more of a primordial need than a need constructed either by hollywood, hallmark, gift gate or blue magik. and when you have no problems at all, you create one for yourself: you fall in love. then again, that's not me. i'm talking about my twenty-two year old friend who thinks he's falling for another jerk. heaven help him please.
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